The Way of the Paladin: To Seek
by Surreal13
Summary: Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke are transported far beyond the reach of their friends. They must rely on each other - and some new friends, to find their way back home.


**Title: To Seek**

**Author: ****surreal_44**

**Beta:** **ericadawn16** did a first read, but I did major editing. All mistakes are mine.

**Rating:** PG-13 (T). Rated for violence, mild swearing, dark themes, suggestive language

**Warnings/Triggers:** None, unless you count bad jokes. Some of them can be quite punny.

**Genre(s):** AU Fantasy; Crack; Crossover; Friendship; Hurt/Comfort; Non-slash

**Crossover fandoms:** White Collar/Quest for Glory

**Spoilers: **For Season One of White Collar; Spoilers for "Quest for Glory: So You Want to Be a Hero"

**Summary:**Neal and Peter have a nasty run-in with magic. Transported far beyond their own familiar borders, they must rely on each other (and a few new friends) to get back home.

**Notes: **I love Quest for Glory, and White Collar...so I combined them together. I have tried to follow the path of the game as closely as possible, but I have had to take artistic license with many scenes in order to tweak them for my purposes. However, I hope I have retained the spirit of the Quest for Glory series. I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

**DISCLAIMER: **White Collar is owned by Jeff Eastin, and the companies that own the rights to the show. Quest for Glory belongs to Lori Ann and Corey Cole, and the owners of the copy rights. I am simply playing in their worlds, and do not intend to profit from the writing of this story.

* * *

This was not his fault. It was the first thing Neal thought as he slowly broke the surface of unconsciousness. He wasn't sure how he knew the circumstances were not his fault, but he clung to that idea as he drifted along in a murky awareness. Things like this tended to be his fault. That's what Peter had pointed out the last time. This was not entirely fair; the first time he hadn't even believed in the supernatural or magic. How was he supposed to know a painting could really be haunted?

Granted, by the time they had figured out how to free the good spirit and destroy the bad spirit, he should have been more wary of items that were 'cursed' or 'magic'. The mirror that supposedly created a doppelganger of the person looking into it was a good example. It really did create a doppelganger, and not a very nice one, either. The ghost cat connected to that Egyptian mummy was another big clue that maybe he should give items connected to the supernatural a wide berth. And yes, ok, so he should have known better than to touch the gold monkey that last time. But those had been small, annoying instances of magic, and easily fixed…Sort of. He wasn't sure what had happened this time, but he did know one thing: This was not his fault.

"_My brain is rambling," _Neal thought with horror. He was glad he was the only one to witness this embarrassing lapse. His thoughts were all jumbled together, as if the dream of free-falling through a cold tunnel had rattled his mind as much as it had rattled his body. He cast his mind back to the last few moments of real awareness he'd had, and tried to sort out the confusing images.

_He and Peter had been at the home of Simon Meidos. They were going to question him over some recent missing magical artifacts. The man's...butler (he looked like a bodyguard) had allowed them inside, and left them in a large drawing room. The lights had been dim, and Neal had felt uneasy. Peter had obviously felt the same way, because he nudged Neal, and they turned to go. The door behind them slammed shut and the room plunged into complete darkness._

_"This is not good," Neal remembered thinking. He thought Peter might have been reaching for his cell phone when bright blue light flared up. For a split second, Neal thought he saw the face of their attacker, but then a voice spoke in a strange language, and a mist formed out of nowhere, swallowing the two men. Dark and thick, it had swirled around them and covered them completely. That's where his memory began to fade and dull. He'd suddenly become tired; more tired than he'd ever been before. He tried to look at Peter but his body was leaden and it took so much effort to even stand._

_It wouldn't have mattered if he had been able to turn his head because the mist obscured his vision. He had tried to shake off the drowsiness but to no avail. Darkness and a bone-chilling cold had swept over and in him, the icy magic digging into his flesh with sharp needles. The pain had been unbearable. He remembered how his knees buckled, but he had no memory of actually hitting the floor._

_There was a strange dream (or was it a memory?) of falling, tumbling through a vast, windy tunnel. The cold bit into him, agonizing and relentless. His mind shut off, unable to take the pain. A strange roaring roused him in time to be blinded by bright sunlight. He remembered bouncing against something. Then there was a very loud thump, followed by bone-crunching pain and more blackness._

_He had woken briefly, in agony, the terrible cold still in his body. A pale, beautiful woman bent over him. He had tried to ask who she was, but his teeth were chattering and he couldn't form the words. She had pressed a wooden cup to his lips and made him drink. The heated liquid chased away some of the chill and pain, but before he could try to ask about Peter her hand touched his forehead, and she whispered something. Pleasant warmth had swept over him, easing the pain and cold. She smiled down at him, and ran her hands over his eyes as she whispered more strange words. Exhaustion had tugged at him, the spell pushing him back to sleep. He sank back into darkness, and he knew no more._

Until now. As his mind cleared a little more, he tried to take stock of where he was before he opened his eyes. Softness beneath him, warm weight over him...he was lying in bed, covered up with blankets. The unknown place he was in had a clean, herby smell that he found relaxing and pleasant. Woodsmoke mingled in the air, and he could hear the crackle of a fire. He twitched his fingers, taking in the texture of the blankets, and it was then that he noticed that the pain was almost completely gone. How long had he been unconscious? He couldn't remember much but he knew he'd been injured from the fall.

Neal was distracted from his thoughts by a squawking and chirping that sounded vaguely like a bird, but…not. Considering the past few months of strange experiences, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what was making that sound. As the sound drew nearer, Neal slowly opened his eyes, distantly concerned about what weird thing he would be confronted with. He blinked his vision into focus and found himself looking at fairly normal, if unfamiliar scenery. The squak came again, but it was obvious now that the sound was in another room. Neal stared for a moment, his brow furrowed as he took in his surroundings. Hand-hewn beams crisscrossed the ceiling, the dark stain contrasting with the soothing blue paint on the rough plaster walls. A slight turn of his head revealed that he was alone in the room. A small table with a mug sat under a latticed window. He was laying on a comfortable, good-sized bed, with several colorful quilts pulled over his body. Wonderful heat was provided by the large fire blazing cheerily in the simple fireplace.

Aside from that, the room was quite bare, leaving no hints as to where he was or who had been taking care of him. He shifted on the bed, and realized that something felt very different. He wiggled his left ankle and confirmed that indeed, his anklet was definitely gone. Instead of the fear and concern that should have hit him, Neal found himself relaxing back into the bed. Distantly he noted that someone had changed him out of his suit and replaced it with strange but comfortable clothing. White billowy shirt...he lifted the blanket and saw that he was wearing a blue, sleeveless tunic and soft, brown leather pants. Definitely not typical of New York, and definitely not something he'd ever seen in a hospital or clinic.

Where the hell was he? He needed to find Peter, and get out of here. He tossed the blankets off and tried to sit up, but his body had other plans. He made it halfway up before wooziness kicked in, and he had to sag back onto the pillows. Maybe he would just rest for a few more minutes...It seemed odd that he wasn't more alarmed about his circumstances, but as he relaxed into the bed and started to fade back into sleep, he realized that he felt safe, wherever he was.

Then his mind snapped into focus and he realized it was foolish to be so trusting of a strange place. He didn't even know where Peter was. What if he was missing? What if he was dead? Panic built up in Neal's chest, and he sat back up. As quickly as his mind had cleared it fogged over again, leaving him weak and tired. The more he worried about Peter, the duller his mind felt. His tense muscles loosened of their own accord, and his eyes grew heavy. A small part of Neal's mind was frightened, but it felt far away and unimportant.

"Let's go check on our patients," a woman said. She was in the next room, but before Neal could even think of feigning sleep or getting into a position to run…to…the thought slipped away just as she pushed the door open. A plump, pleasant-looking woman with auburn hair entered the room, carrying a tray. A delicious scent wafted in the air, making his mouth water and his stomach growl. She smiled broadly when she saw that Neal was awake and watching her.

"You're up," she said, sounding pleased. She set the tray down on the table and approached him cautiously, her hands held up so he could see where they were. "How do you feel? Is there any lingering coldness? Are you in pain?"

"No..." Neal said, cautiously. She seemed nice enough, but then again she had a small red lizard with wings sitting on her shoulder. He stared at it with a wary expression. It squawked at him and rustled its little wings. He couldn't think of any variety of known lizards that had wings. At least he knew what was making that odd noise. The woman smiled at him, and slowly reached for his hands. Neal did not try to fight her as she lifted first his right hand, then his left. She examined both of them closely, concentrating mostly on his fingertips and nails, and frowned, apparently unhappy at what she found.

"You don't feel any cold?" she asked him again. Neal shook his head. He didn't feel right, but he couldn't say that he felt even a small chill. She reached for his forehead and he flinched away from her. Almost immediately his body relaxed against the bed and he became passive once more. This time when she reached out, he found he couldn't even lift his arm to try to push her away. He was getting sleepier the more he thought about trying to get away. Had he been drugged? He didn't understand why he couldn't think or formulate a plan to escape. Every time he thought of running, he…he would….

Neal blinked, confused. What had he been thinking about? He looked up at the woman's concerned face and tried to remain calm. She didn't seem to be dangerous. He wasn't quite sure if he could trust her yet but he needed to find out two very important things. He was proud that his voice sounded normal, because inwardly he felt somewhat close to a breakdown. "Where am I? Where's Peter?"

The woman was watching him closely, and she nodded to herself once, as if she had come to some sort of understanding. She did not seem put-off by his abruptness, but was instead understanding and sympathetic with him. "I know you're confused," she said. "You and your friend with the golden seal are in Spielburg. Your friend's name is Peter? He's still resting."

That wasn't the most helpful information. Neal had no idea where Spielburg was and the information on Peter was too vague to be reassuring. Still a little frightened but desperate to hide it, he tried a charming smile on the woman and asked, "May I ask who you are?"

"You may," she said with an amused smile. "My name is Amelia Appleberry, but everyone around here just calls me the Healer. This," she indicated the red lizard on her shoulder, "Is Pterry my pterosaur. What may I call you, young man?"

Neal hesitated before responding. He still felt wary about offering up too much information, but he didn't think giving her his name would hurt. "My name is Neal."

The lizard squawked loudly, startling him again. He jumped, almost as if he was going to hop off the bed and flee, but again as soon as he thought about running he felt that strange calmness settle over his body, the thought of fleeing slipping way so that it was only a dim, unimportant idea. The loss of control was beginning to make him panic. The more he panicked, however, the drowsier he felt.

"What's wrong with me? Why am I so tired?" Neal hated that he sounded so afraid, but he realized that whatever had been done to him was affecting his ability to dissemble and lie his way out of this situation. Not that he thought he'd be able to get away with it if he had managed to let an untruth slip through his lips. He suspected that Amelia was a sharp woman who wouldn't tolerate that sort of behavior.

"It's a calming spell," she explained gently. "It was placed over the cottage to help prevent violence and to keep errant patients from doing harm to themselves or others. You feel odd because you are thinking of doing something that stems from fear or anger. Maybe you're thinking of running away? The spell works against that that too."

Neal tried to smile but he could feel it falling flat. He was out of his element here, and he was worried about Peter and how they would get home. "I was thinking of running," he admitted in a somewhat sheepish voice. "I swear that I wasn't thinking of hurting you, I just –"

"I know," she said with a smile. The Healer rested her hand on his head and he felt a small jolt. The sensation was not unpleasant. In fact, it helped to clear his mind a little. "There. That will lift the effects of the aura a little for now. I can't remove it entirely, because the spell is on the building, but you should be feeling better."

She sent Neal a questioning glance and was satisfied when he nodded at her. "You just need to keep from panicking. As long as you do that, you should feel fine," Amelia explained to him. "Do you know how you came to Spielburg? It's been a long time since such magic has been seen in our town. It was quite the arrival. You two fell from the sky, hit a tree and then landed in the town square. You caused quite a stir. Luckily Zara was there and was able to start healing you two immediately while they came to get me." As she spoke she helped him sit up. Neal was relieved to be in a less vulnerable position, and he felt a little better about opening up to her.

"My partner and I were trying to stop a criminal, but he used some magic on us," he explained. Amelia adjusted the pillows to support his back and fussed with the quilt, trying to cover as much of him as possible with it. She seemed very concerned about keeping him warm, but Neal didn't even notice the cold anymore. "I don't know what the spell was or why we ended up here. What about Peter?" he reminded her. The healer had mentioned him briefly, but she still hadn't told him if Peter was all right.

"Your friend is doing well. He's still sleeping. You both had terrible injuries from your fall, and the spell used on you was quite powerful. It was dark magic that brought you here. That's nothing to fool around with, especially for folks like you two who obviously haven't been around magic much. Where are you from?"

"I...we're from New York City," Neal said. His face fell a little when Amelia didn't show any signs of recognition of the city. "You don't know where that is, do you?"

The healer shook her head. She looked more troubled than she had before. "I don't know where in Glorianna that is. But I am not the most learned at these sorts of things. I'm educated, and I have some magic, but it's focused on healing the bodies and people. It's not as fancy as some magic-users out there. Maybe Zara or Erasmus would know of where you speak."

"I don't know much about magic," Neal said, more to fill the silence than to share his knowledge. She had said Glorianna. He'd never heard of such a place. "Does Zara have red hair?" Neal asked as he thought back to that one moment of awareness. Amelia nodded. She moved from his side over to the table, leaving Neal wrapped up in his thoughts. Zara must have been the woman bending over him. Maybe it was from being barely conscious and in pain, but now he suddenly recalled that she had had pointed ears. Or was that his imagination? Suddenly Neal felt extremely overwhelmed. He had no idea where Spielburg was, and the petro…ptoer…the flying lizard didn't look like anything he'd ever seen before.

Amelia placed the tray on his lap. "One thing at a time," she said as if she was reading his thoughts. "Eat, it will make you feel better. Once you're done I'll let you get up and you can see Peter for yourself." Neal stared down at the bowl, unsure if he could force himself to take a bite yet. Food was at the bottom of his list of concerns at the moment. "Eat, eat. I will be back in just a few minutes."

Neal nodded his agreement. For now, it seemed like he didn't have much of a choice. The Healer patted him on the shoulder and closed the door behind her to give him some privacy. He was still worried about Peter, and he felt a little stab of fear that maybe this whole thing was a set up. Then he thought of the kind expression on the woman's face. No one would be that good at hiding an agenda. Keeping in mind what the healer had said about the magic over the building, Neal tried to breathe through his panic so he could keep his mind clear. First things first – he needed to eat in order to regain his strength.

He sniffed at the bowl and decided it seemed safe enough to eat, so he took a cautious bite. The soup was a light broth with bits of vegetables and meat in it. He also had warmed apple crisp, and a spiced, warm drink. As he ate he realized he could still feel a biting cold deep inside him. Odd, he hadn't even noticed it until now.

Barely five minutes had passed since he started to eat when there was a sharp, polite knock on the door, followed by it opening just a crack. "May I enter?" the Healer asked.

"Yes, of course," Neal said. What was he going to say? No? This wasn't even his home. The door opened and the Healer stepped into the room. She was smiling, and carrying another tray of food. Neal perked up. Did that mean…?

Peter walked into the room behind the Healer. When he saw Neal, his face broke out in a relieved smile. Neal returned the smile, and suddenly the room came into sharp focus. For the first time since he'd come around, his thoughts were clear and crisp, and the lethargy was completely gone.

"There you go," the Healer said approvingly as she saw the change in Neal's demeanor. "I found him wandering around my work room. Since he was already up, I suggested he come here to see you. You two can eat together." She handed Peter a bowl and set the tray on the table. "Make sure you finish everything. You're both still fighting off that dark magic, so you'll need your strength."

"Thank you," Neal said, and sent her one of his brightest smiles. Amelia kept her gaze stern, but he could see the slight lift in her lips as she turned to leave. Once the door closed behind her, Peter and Neal stared at each other. There was a lot to discuss, but it was hard to figure out where to start.

"Are you all right?" They asked each other the question at the same time, and laughed. Neal motioned for Peter to have a seat at the edge of his bed. Peter seemed more than happy to sit down again. Neal didn't miss the fact that his partner was pale and seemed to be a little wobbly on his feet.

"I'm fine," Neal said. He finished his soup and took a swallow of the drink. It was soothing, and helped thaw some of the ice that felt like it had taken over his body. He sighed. "Or not. I feel…"

"Strange?" Peter asked. He took a sip of the soup. "Cold? The Healer said that it's from whatever spell sent us here. I woke up a little while ago, but I can still feel it in my bones."

The two men were silent for a minute while they ate. Neal wanted to ask Peter how he thought they might get home, but he couldn't quite bring himself to speak. Before, there had been other witnesses to the strange situations they'd been in. Between their friends and their own abilities, they had gotten out of some tight spots. This was different. He and Peter had walked right into a trap while searching for Simon and the stolen artifacts. Hughes knew they had gone to question the man, but they hadn't worn wires and they hadn't taken any back-up. No one knew about the spell. No one had seen them disappear.

"We'll get through this," Peter said. He was trying to sound confident, but Neal knew him well enough to know that Peter was just as worried as he was. He appreciated the effort, however, and he managed to conjure up a smile for his partner. If he had to be dumped in an unknown land, at least it was with Peter. There were worse people to be stuck with.

As they finished the last of their food there was another knock on the door. "Enter," Neal said. He stiffened immediately as he saw that it was not the Healer, but an older man with white hair. In spite of the his obvious age, his arms and legs were still corded with an impressive amount of muscle. But that wasn't what made Neal stare at the stranger.

The powerfully built man who was looking at them with suspicion was wearing lederhosen and a…a sheriff's badge. Neal didn't dare look at Peter; he was afraid if he did that he might burst into hysterical laughter. He didn't think that would go over well with the man gazing at them with a disapproving frown on his face. Peter narrowed his eyes and sat up a little straighter, quite obviously ready to fall back into the familiar role of Peter Burke, Special Agent of the FBI.

Before any of the men could speak, Amelia bustled into the room. She glared at the sheriff and said firmly, "These men are under my care and therefore are to be treated accordingly. I did tell you that you could speak with them, but I did not give you leave to wander my home so freely, sir. Now I must ask you to leave, as it is clear they are not finished with their food. I will send them to you as soon as I am satisfied they are well enough to leave."

"My apologies, Healer," the sheriff said in a meek voice. Neal suspected that the man wasn't easily intimidated. Then again, who would want to argue with the imperious tone of the Healer? Neal was amused, and he could see Peter attempting – and failing – to hide his own smile at the situation. The sheriff seemed to notice it, and his pale blue eyes twinkled as he sketched Amelia a stiff bow. He turned a wary eye towards Neal and Peter. "But I have a town to protect and I need to speak with these young gents about what has happened."

The Healer sniffed indignantly and pushed him out of the room. She closed the door none-too-gently in his startled face and turned to look back at her amused patients. "Are you two up for some questioning? I should have told you that he wanted to speak with you, but I had been hoping I could at least let you get your bearings before he began the interrogation."

"I feel fine," Peter assured her. At her skeptical face, he quickly amended his statement. Since she was willing to bully the sheriff, he wasn't about to get her ire turned on him if he could help it. "We're both still a little cold, but I think we can speak with the sheriff. We have nothing to hide."

"I'll be the judge of whether you're ready to leave," Amelia said tartly as she gathered up the trays. Her stern expression melted as Neal gave her one of his patented smiles. Not even she could resist his charms for long. Out of the corner of his vision Neal could see Peter rolling his eyes. "All right you two. You wait here and I'll fetch you after I speak with the Sheriff. Before I release you, we should go over a few things."

**OoOoOoOoO**

A few minutes later, Peter and Neal were seated on some stools in what served as the Healer's workroom, waiting for her decision on whether or not she deemed them healthy enough to leave the premises. The Sheriff, they were informed, had been dismissed from her home and would be waiting for them in town. Neal would have liked to see Amelia tossing the Sheriff out. He was sure it had been an amusing sight.

As she talked about the sheriff and explained where to find him in town, she moved around the room with seemingly tireless energy. Amelia was packing two small satchels, pausing at one point to hand each of them another mug of her 'healing brew' to banish the last traces of damage the dark magic had inflicted on them.

While they drank the strong herbal tea, Amelia described some of the troubles that had come to the land of Spielburg. Not only had the pass been closed off by several landslides, but monsters ran rampant outside the gates of the town and castle. The other big problems came from the brigands. They had become more organized in the past few years, and it was not safe to travel alone. Even traveling in a group was a risk because of how bold the brigands had become.

"It's because of the curse," the Healer explained, setting a bowl of soup in front of Neal and motioning for him to eat. The red-haired woman had decided he needed more food, and he found that he couldn't disagree. Peter had watched him with amusement and something close to relief. Since Kate's death, Neal's already light appetite had shrunk considerably. This was the first time in months that he had felt hungry. While Neal polished off the bowl of soup, Amelia did a final examination of Peter's fingertips. "Good, your fingernails look normal, instead of purple," she announced.

"Curse? There's a curse on this place?" Peter asked unhappily. Amelia grinned at his tone and stepped away, satisfied with his progress. She rewarded his patience with a bowl of soup and chunk of bread. She handed Neal the other chunk of bread, which he gladly ate while he listened to her with interest. So far they'd only run into cursed objects; they hadn't been to a place that was cursed.

"Baba Yaga cursed Baron von Spielburg," Amelia explained. At the moment she was rifling through a trunk for something. "She's an ogress witch who lives to the west of here. It's a sad, sad curse. The Baron lost his children, his guards, and now the valley has fallen onto hard times. There is a prophecy that a hero from the East will save Spielburg. Don't know if I believe it; the new adventurers don't generally last too long out here."

She approached the men again and handed them each one of the leather pouches she had been packing. The small bag seemed empty. It wasn't until she let go that Neal felt the weight. Surprised, he opened the pouch and was even more startled by what he saw. Despite the small size, it was quite roomy, and he discovered that it contained four bottles, a few wrapped food items, and a small sack filled with some gold and silver coins.

"What's all this?" Peter asked as he looked in his satchel as well. The Healer smiled at them and went over to her wardrobe, where she pulled out two cloaks, both of them black with gray lining.

"You two obviously don't come from here," she said as she handed them the garments. "I cannot in good conscience let you leave without a few supplies to tide you over until someone can figure out how to send you home. There's a few healing potions and the green bottle is a vigor potion. I want you both to drink that tomorrow morning. I gave you both some rations and a small sum of money, just to get you started."

"Thank you," Peter said, surprise and genuine gratitude in his voice. "We'll be sure to put this to good use. And of course, if we are able, we will repay you for all that you've done for us."

Amelia waved off Peter's words. "I don't require you to pay me back. I wouldn't be a very good healer if I didn't help those in need." She checked their cloaks to make sure they were fastened properly, adjusted their collars and gave them each a kiss on the cheek. "It's been a pleasure helping you. If you need anything, do not hesitate to come to me. Oh there is one thing you might do for me…if it's not too much trouble while you're out and about."

"Of course," Peter said. "We'll do our best in between our efforts to get home. What can we do for you?"

"I lost my ring a few weeks ago. It's gold and looks like it's made from small leaves. I think I dropped it outside. I'd love to have it back," Amelia said. "Unfortunately business has been booming for me, so I haven't been able to really look for it."

"We'll keep an eye out for it," Neal promised as he stepped outside. The air was cold enough to bite, and the gentle breeze blowing through the trees seemed to carry little shards of ice. No wonder the Healer had been worried about letting them go so soon. Spielburg was not a warm place.

"Now listen...don't get too excited and start getting ideas to go adventuring too soon. I want you to take it easy for a few days," the Healer cautioned them again. "I hope you find your way home soon, but if you run low on money you can always work in the stables at the castle. Tell the stable master the healer sent you, he'll let you work there."

Amelia pointed out a small but majestic castle that was perhaps three miles away. "And whatever you do, don't wander Spielburg at night. Always try to be in a sheltered area. The wild animals are dangerous and will most certainly kill you if you are not cautious."

"Thank you," Peter said as he looked first at the castle and then at the other paths that led from the Healer's home. One seemed to lead to a farm, and the other vanished around a bend.

"The town is to the east of here. Just follow the path," Amelia said, and pointed them in the right direction. "Take care," she said and closed the door with a final wave at them. Peter and Neal looked at each other. They were on their own.

"Things could be worse," Peter finally said. He was trying very hard not to look up at the squawking pterosaur in the nest above their heads. "We could be dead."

"Or undead," Neal agreed. He looked around. "So where to next?"

"The town," Peter finally said. "We need to talk to the sheriff first. Then we figure out our next step."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Neal muttered. "Fine, let's get this over with."

Peter squeezed his shoulder lightly. "We'll figure this out, Neal. You know how magic works. We can bend the rules or reverse it. We'll get home. It's just a matter of finding someone to help us." Then he did look up at the pterosaur. "At least here it won't seem so crazy to be talking about magic."

Neal nodded. It's not like they had a choice. The two men walked together in silence for a few moments. Eventually, Neal found he couldn't contain himself. "But really, Peter? Lederhosen?"

**~tbc**


End file.
